


SlipKnot [KinkTober 2020]

by Lt_BC



Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Daddy Kink, Kinktober, Lingerie, M/M, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Transvestite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26750008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lt_BC/pseuds/Lt_BC
Summary: [It's kinktober and I'm also doing inktober and I'm gonna die][These will not be long chapters, because I'm not writing 3k words for each chapter]Regardless, EnjoyDay One - Toys under ClothsDay Two - LingerieDay Three - BlowjobDay Four - IntersexDay Seven - Breath Play/Daddy Kink
Relationships: Chris Fehn/Jim Root, Shawn Crahan/Mick Thomson, Shawn Crahan/Sid Wilson
Comments: 19
Kudos: 46





	1. Toys Under Clothes

Sid was shifting in his seat. His face luckily covered by his mask, otherwise, every damn person in the room would have seen the Dj’s flushed red skin and tongue hanging out like a dog in heat. Sid groaned quietly, no one could hear him, his hands gripping at the arms of the chair. The tube of the gas mask whipping around as he shook his head and got all _‘twitchy’_ as Shawn would put it. Though the Dj couldn’t help it, the toy vibrating lowly in his ass was driving him mad. He had sat in Shawn’s lap that morning on the tour bus, the man whispering filth in his ear as the clown’s fingers worked him open, eventually shoving the toy inside the trembling Dj and ordering him not to take it out for the rest of the day, kissing the younger man on the forehead. Sid only learned afterward that they would be doing an interview, which had made him whimper with a mix of anxiety and excitement. 

Sid rocked back and forth in his seat, head in his hands; not at all paying attention to the interviewer as he wallowed in the vibrations right up against his prostate that was making his legs and stomach muscles tense up. He grit his teeth, toes curling, he couldn’t make noise. Shawn was sitting next to him, answering the interviewer's questions and intentionally ignoring Sid's seemingly erratic behavior, even if the clown knew better. The Dj rolling his head back and shaking it again, the black thin tubes that had been attached to the grayish gas mask making him look even crazier. Hearing his name, his attention snapped to the interviewer, then he felt a sharp pressing of a hand on his shoulder. The clown speaking for him, 

_“Sid? He’s just crazy,”_ Shawn laughing roughly as the interviewer looked a little more uncomfortable, glancing at someone behind the camera like they knew what to make of the men. Sid nodded frantically and let out a drowned howl just to make the interviewer even more nervous. It was also a chance to release some of the tension built up in his body that threatened to explode at any moment. He kicked his legs and clutched at the arms of the chair again, trying not to breathe too hard from inside his mask. He had been clever enough to wear jeans under the baggy jumpsuit, said jeans feeling _much_ too tight at the moment. Grabbing at his mask and shaking his head, he was praying the interview would end soon, he was going to scream. A muffled grunting sound left his mouth as he couldn’t hold it in any longer, getting a slap on the back of the head from Shawn. A not so subtle hint to shut up. Sid electing to curl in one himself and pray to whatever gods that were out to there to let this end soon so he could escape and have Shawn either fuck him half to death or at least let the poor Dj make noise. Sid not making noise was a rarity and not being able too at all was a whole new set of tortures to go along with the toy. 

Apparently, his prayers had been answered. Shawn poked him on the shoulder, the Dj uncurling himself. The interviewer waved a polite goodbye to the two ‘madmen’ as Sid bonded out of the room, the clown following at a more calm pace. The zipper on Sid’s jumpsuit already halfway down as he darted onto the tour bus, lucky him that no one else was there as his jumpsuit was zipped all the way down, his freckled skin flushed and sweaty. Sid moaned as the clown pressed to his back, the gloved hands taking advantage of the open jumpsuit and pressing to Sid’s hot skin, one finding its way to grope at the Dj through his jeans. Sid’s cries were still muffled by the gas mask still affixed to his face, Shawn chuckling as tattooed hands tried to reach back and undo the clown’s clothing. Shawn resting his head on the Dj’s shoulder and humming, the younger man still making desperate sounds as the clown’s hands ran over his boiling form. 

The clown eventually gave in to the begging sounds Sid was making and pulled off his own rubber mask, lips brushing over the little bit of exposed skin of Sid’s shoulder and throat. The Dj shivering as the kisses continued as far as they could up his neck. The clown’s voice low and rumbling. 

_“Good job, Sidney,”_ The hand still on sid’s groin squeezing hard at the trapped erection, _“Let’s take care of this, hmm?”_ Sid making an animalistic mewling sound in response, Shawn chuckling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll try and write more lmao


	2. Lingerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh y'know, joey wear Lingerie, i know very original shhhhh

Joey sat on the floor of the bus, A large shirt draped around his shoulders; whose shirt it actually was no one knew, but it didn’t matter. The small man was knelt on the scratchy carpet, his hair flowing over his shoulders and wrists decorated with a few small bracelets. Pale long-fingered hands fidgeting with the hem of the shirt, before lifting it to pull it over his head. Comb the hands through the long dark locks that had been disturbed by the removal of the piece of clothing. The fingers trailing down over his now bare chest, that was tinted a bit pink with the flush on his very pale skin. He settled in a more comfortable position, his legs spread a little wider. The tight black thigh-high socks he was wearing squeezing at his legs, enough to make the little fat he did have on his hips and thighs more obvious. The porcelain skin unmarked by any major blemished save for a few scattered pinkish scars. The hands going down to squeeze at his hips, the stark contrast of the black socks and lingerie panties against his skin making it all the better when he pulled the panties up to sit more snugly on his hips. 

A small moan from his lips as one of his hands squeezed at his chest. He could hear the other men in the room shift, their attention even more fixed on his as a slightly louder breathy moan escaped him. The fingers skilled in their touches, Joey flipping some of his long hair over his shoulder so the other men could get a better view and he pinched and massaged one of his flushed nipples. The pink buds perky and sensitive, rolled between his fingers with another breathy moan. The hand still squeezing at the fat of his thigh wandered up to the lines of his hips, tracing the light line of hair that ran down his flat stomach to the dick that was straining against the thin lace of the panties. Joey let out a high-pitched whine as he groped himself through the lace, black painted nail digging into the porcelain skin of his chest, leaving little red half crescents behind. 

The hand moving to pull his erection out of its confines, Joey mewling as he wrapped fingers tightly around its base. Biting hard at his lip, eyebrows furrowing while he moved his hand up the length of the dick, the tight grip of his fingers squeezing and causing a bead of precum to gather at the tip. More precum beading as Joey stroked up and down, knowing precisely how to move to make himself gasp and moan. The pitched little whimpers in his throat as the hand on his chest pinched at a flushed bud, moving from it up to press two fingers to his lips. Joey ran his tongue over the fingers and taking them into his mouth, sucking on the slender digits, a bit of drool dripping from his lips as he moaned around his fingers. Cock twitching in his palm as he smeared the precome over the dark pink head. 

His hips rocking into the hand around his dick, tongue grazing over the pads of the fingers shoved deep into his mouth. A gurgling sound echoing from his throat as his hand moved fast around his cock. High pitch whimpers from his chest, eyes screwing shut. He could feel the eyes all on him, his legs spreading a bit more, the socks still tight on his thighs. The heavy breaths of a few of the other men drove him forwards; right to the edge. Joey moans loud and erotic as his hips stuttered and bucked a few times in his hand, ejaculant spattering on the floor, a bit land on his thighs; staining his socks. The drummer pulling the fingers from his mouth, spit glistening on his skin, a slight lopsided smirk on his cherry lips. 

Joey panted, running a hand through his hair,  _ “There’s you fuckin’ show, you perverts,” _


	3. BlowJob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally writtin fro 'The Nasty Nine' but ehhhhe i publish heere yeasss  
> Micky can be bottom

He had stormed back to the bus. No one followed him, they all knew not too. If they did all they would earn was a trip to the medics tent and a bruised ego. Mick damn near broke the hinges of the bus door when he slammed it closed. Stalking to one of the couches and sitting down heavily. His boot tapping hard against the floor, leg bouncing up and down. Trying to control his breathing, he couldn’t destroy the bus;  _ as much as he’d like too.  _ He could feel fire coursing in his veins, knuckles aching to collide with someone's face. He was hunched over, elbows balanced on his knees and palms pressing to his forehead, eye squeezed shut. Long hair spilling down and hanging loosely all around his head like a curtain. 

His brows furrowed when he heard the tour bus’s door click.  _ Which fucking dumbass?  _ Mick growled when he heard someone approach, the waves of aggression practically rolling off him. The guitarist slammed his foot down, standing up fast from the couch and glared at whoever had been dumb enough to disturb him.  _ Oh.  _

Shawn stood there, looking completely unamused by the guitarist’s fit of anger. The clown mask still over his head, eye’s just barely gleaming out from beneath it. Mick growled again, anger still seething in his gut. 

**_“What?”_ ** The clown didn’t respond, only moved closer, Mick’s jaw set. He was about to push past the older man, and find somewhere to sulk when the clown’s hand shot out. It knotted hard in Mick’s long hair, wrenching him down to eye level with the clown. Shawn’s sharp blue eyes didn’t falter when they met the wrath stirring in the guitarist's own electric blue eyes. Mick snarled, tempted to push the clown away from him; just as the thought crossed his mind, the hand in his hair pulling painfully. A half moan half growl escape the guitarist's chest,

**_“You fuckin’ bitc-”_ **

“Shut up, Micky,” The clown’s other hand came up to cup Mick’s face, nails digging into the skin before the guitarist spat anymore vitreal, a thumb pressing to the taller man’s lips. The guitarist growling again, his fists white-knuckled. Though he couldn’t help a low growling moan that escaped him when his hair was pulled at again, the clown letting out a quiet chuckle. Mick tried to push down the small bit of disappointment that he felt when the hands left him, the clown stepping back. Mick’s eyes followed the older man as he sat down on the ratty tour bus couch, blue eyes looking at Mick, unwavering. The guitarist felt something twist in his gut, Shawn had always been one of the few people who was never afraid of him, and for that Mick would give him a little credit. The clown leaned forward just a bit,

_ “Come’re, _ ” The guitarist found himself moving to stand in front of the clown, he could see a look of approval in the older man’s eyes.  _ “Get on your knees,” _ Mick almost laughed, looking down at the clown, who had no hint of joking in his eyes. 

_ “And why in the  _ **_fuck,_ ** _ would I do that?”  _

“Because,” Shawn patted his thigh, eyes unblinking,  _ “You’re going to suck my cock, and you're going to like it,”  _

He had ended up on his knees in front of the clown. Eyes still stubborn, even as he watched the older man undo the zipper of his jumpsuit and pulled out his half-hard dick. Mick pulled forward a bit by the hand knotted in his hair, groaning. He shifted closer, lowering his head to lick at the tip of the dick, an approving noise from the man above him. The hand scratched at his scalp as the guitarist took half-hard cock into his mouth and sucked. Tongue grazing along the underside of the rapidly hardening erection. He only felt a little bit pissed that he had gotten on his knees so quickly for the clown, exhaling sharply from his nose. The guitarist's own hands were resting on his legs, fisting in the fabric of his jumpsuit as his face was shoved in between the Clown’s thighs, nose pressed into the pubic hair. He could feel drool down his chin, soaking into his beard as the cock in his mouth twitched, his tongue working at a swollen vein that he could hear made Shawn breathe a little harder under his mask. The clown purring, 

“Y’know Micky, when I first met you I could have never guessed you’d be such a good cocksucker.” Shawns hips rolled into the guitarist's mouth, Mick trying to control his gag reflex. Moaning as the hand pulled at his hair. Shawn hummed, _ “Big angry Mick on his knees with a dick down his throat,” _ He could tell the clown was sneering down at him,  _ “Such a slut, aren’t you?” _ Mick growled, grazing his teeth over the throbbing erection between his jaws, Shawn only chuckling and using a hand to pinch hard at one of the guitarist's pierced ears. Mick glaring up at the Clown, but it’s hard to look angry with a cock shoved in your mouth. 

Shawn's hand was still petting at Mick’s hair as the guitarist bobbed his head up and down. The guitarist’s own hands undoing the zipper of his jumpsuit, groping himself through his underwear as he groaned around the clown's dick. Eventually freeing his own erection and matching the movements of his mouth with his hand, precum oozing over his fingers. Intentionally grazing over the piercing through the head, grunting at the sensation. The clown snarled when Mick’s grazed his teeth over the base of the cock, hollowing his cheeks and gagging a bit, the guitarist breathing hard through his nose. The clown’s hand forced his head up and off the dick, an obscene  _ ‘pop’  _ as it was removed from his lips. The guitarist’s hand had stopped stroking at his own dick, glaring up at Shawn. The older man tilted his masked head to the side, studying Mick’s face, eventually guiding the guitarist’s face down until the cock was brushing against the spit coated lips. Mick’s tongue flicking out to lick at the tip, the precum salty-sweet in his mouth. Flicking his tongue out again to run up the slit, while glaring up at Shawn; daring to raise an eyebrow up at the man. 

Shawn’s eyes were indecipherable, though he didn’t stop the guitarist from taking the head of the cock back into his warm mouth and running his tongue up the slit repeatedly while sucking gently. Mick’s teeth grazing over the sensitive arousal again, which managed to get a groan out of the clown. The mixture of drool and precum slicking Mick’s lips, some dribbling down into his beard as he took more of Shawn into his mouth, doing his best to make the man above him groan and buck his hips even the tiniest bit. Mick gagged when he tried to deepthroat the man, though he tried again, managing to do it even his throat contracted and another wave of drool soaked his chin. His own hand was back working at his dick as he choked, though his time he couldn’t pull away as both the Clown’s hands were back in his hair holding his still. Forcing the big guitarist to stay drooling and gagging around the cock; his blushed face trapped between the clown thighs. 

The clown’s hips rolled and bucked into Mick’s mouth, hands still knotted in his hair. The guitar’s fist hard and fast around his own dick, the curl of an orgasum deep in his gut, a bit of haziness in his head as the cock shoved down his throat forced him to gag again. A deep moan reverberated in his throat as the clown’s dick was pulled fully out his mouth, one of the hands leaving his hair. The clown grunting as he stroked himself directly in front of the guitarist's face, panting hard. Mick tongue lulled a bit out of his mouth, his own breathing getting little quicker as he shifted his hips and squeezed a hand around his dick. The clown’s hard muffled breathing reaching a peak, Mick’s eyes flying shut as sticky white fluid splattered into his face. Some dripped down his lips, soaking into his facial hair. He snarled again as his own hips bucked and jolted, cum spilling from his dick, leaking down over his fingers. Mick made a much softer sound as his head tilted down, hair spilling off his shoulder, panting. He could feel the clown’s ejaculant dripping down his face, a bit of shame flushing his cheeks. 

The clown had zipped back up his own jumpsuit, looking down at Mick with amusement in his eyes. The guitarist regaining enough of his stubbornness to glare up at the man, even in his current state. The clown only chuckled, reaching down to spread more of the ejaculant across Mick’s lips. The guitarist clicking his teeth together. The clown cocking his head to the side, as if he was listening to something, 

_ “Think some of ‘em’ll show up soon,”  _ The tone of the clown’s voice mocking, Mick snarling.  _ “Better go get cleaned up, Micky,”  _


	4. Intersex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask, my brain is weird sometimes

It had all started with a simple question,  _ “Peaches, why don’t you ever fuck any of the groupies?”  _ Jim had to sheepishly explain himself when Corey pushed until he forced the answer out of the taller man. Corey only cocking an eyebrow, most of the rest of the men around the basement doing the same and looking at the tall guitarist with confusion; the only one who hadn’t reacted was Mick, who had already known Jim’s little secret, but that wasn't something the tall man felt like deal with at the moment. Jim shifting under the other men’s gazes and looking at the floor, fingers fidgeting with a few loose threads of the ratty couch. Sid broke the awkward silence, 

“Can I fuck you?” Jim wrinkled his nose and made an indignant noise. 

_ “No!”  _ Sid shrugging and focusing his attention back onto the set of turntables in front of him. 

“Y’know Peaches, I never would have guessed you had a pussy,” Corey laughed as Jim blushed, the guitarist brought his hands up to cover his now all red face. The guitarist now regretting saying anything other than  _ ‘Oh fuck off, Cor’,  _ glancing through his fingers to see Corey grinning. The singer approached and knelt in front of him, a hand coming up to grab at one of Jim's wrists, “Awe, it’s okay, Peaches.  _ We love you whether or not you're a bit of a girl,”  _ Jim’s face only getting a bit redder, mumbling  _ ‘Not a fucking girl’  _ Corey only laughed, eyes shining with something that Jim couldn’t identify. Ripping his gaze from the singer, he could see a few of the other men around the basement close in on them. Jim swallowed, his legs pressing together.  _ Shit. _

_ Jim almost felt bad.  _ Chris  _ did _ sound like he was dying, but the arms wrapped around Jim’s thighs and the tongue fucking into him distracted the guitarist from really thinking anything coherent; making a wordless whining sound as Chris licked at him. 

Jim had been stripped of all his clothes save for his now unbuttoned flannel, which hung loosely off his shoulders. The guitarist, due to his inability to say  _ ‘no’  _ to anyone,  _ especially Corey _ , had ended up on the floor of the basement with his thighs wrapped around Chris’s head, the percussionist laying on the floor below him and using his tongue to make Jim moan like a girl. Heck, the guitarist had barely even gotten to know Chris before tonight, and now the percussionist was eating him out with a surprising amount of skill. Jim moaning and whimpering as Chris’s tongue grazed over his clit, working the sensitive area until Jim made a high pitched whining sound. Hands coming up to cover his face again in embarrassment, he could feel the eyes of the other men in the room fixed on him as he tried to hold back another moan. 

The burn of oversensitivity running wild through his nerves. The percussionist’s tongue had already made Jim orgasm once, and he was going to stop the man as he was already moaning loudly again and had locked one hand in the brunette’s hair, his own tongue lolling out of his mouth and eyes rolled into the back of his head. Jim rocked his hips, hearing Chris whine and dig his nails into Jim’s pale thighs. 

The hot curling of a second orgasm was twisting in Jim’s gut, his thighs tightening around Chris’s head as he panted into his hands and ground his hips down, not knowing or registering that he was partially suffocating Chris, though the brunette only doubled his efforts in trying to get the tall guitarist to whimper and cry out again. Jim gasping and shivering as his back arched, hand knotting hard in Chris’s hair, the percussionist moaning as well when Jim’s fluid spilled into his mouth. The guitarist rolled his hips and mewled as his second orgasm hit him harder than a truck, Chris making a desperate muffled noise as Jim’s body shuttered and went limp, falling to the side off the percussionist, who gasped for air and rolled his head to the side

Jim's head was fuzzy, the floor of the basement cold against his skin, his inner thighs coated with the remnants of his orgasm. He managed to catch a glance at Chris, who was still laying on the floor panting and staring at Jim with big half-lidded glassy eyes, his lips and cheeks covered in slick. The guitar’s sensing someone kneeling by his head, petting a hand through his sweaty hair. 

_ “This is gonna be fun, Peaches,”  _ Jim could practically feel the wide grin on Corey’s face, the singer chuckling as the tall man whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahah ha a no i will not take accountability for this


	5. Breath Play/Daddy kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i cant hear you over Sid's aggressive daddy kink  
> i'm sorry

Sid was clawing uselessly at the hand wrapped around his throat. Nails digging into the rough fabric of the man’s jacket, his greenish flecked eyes wide and desperate as the hand only tightening its grip. Sid trying to choke out a plea, darkness spotting at the edge of his vision, his mind hazy. He was right on the edge of passing out when the hand finally loosened enough for him to gulp a few precious breaths of air, though the gloved hand didn’t leave his bruised throat just yet. Sid's eyes fell closed, collapsing against the older man’s chest, his hands falling weaky to his sides, drool coating his lips and dribbling down his chin. His voice barely above a shaky whisper, 

_“Shaawwnnn. . .”_ The hand at his throat twitched against the skin, daring to squeeze at his windpipe yet again as Sid moaned, the Dj jolting as Shawn’s other hand gripped hard at the freckled skin of his hip. Sid was knelt on the bed, straddling Shawn’s knees, his back pressed to the clown’s chest, his hips grinding down against the dick rooted in his ass. The only reason the Dj hadn’t collapsed face-first onto the bed was the clown's hands keeping him steady in the man’s lap. Sid panted hard, desperate to replenish the air in his lungs as the clown growled in his ear and bucked his hips into the Dj, making the younger man let out a choked throaty moan. Sid could feel the rough texture of the man’s jacket against his back, the texture of the jeans rubbed at his legs. The man practically fully clothed while Sid had been stripped naked and choked until the Dj’s dick was heavy and sensitive between his thighs, though Shawn had refused to let the Dj release; Edging the younger man until he was moaning and incoherent in the clown’s lap. 

The gloved fingers massaged gently at the Dj’s raw throat, the younger man mewling and grinding his hips down. Trying to get Shawn to do something, _anything_ to him. The Dj panting and rocking his hips, voice scratchy, _“Shawn…”_ The gloved hand squeezing at his throat, like a warning, _“Fuck me already, you fuckin’ dick,”_ Shawn growled, The hand on Sid’s hip moving fast to smack the Dj’s thigh, Sid keening as the rough texture of the gloved dragged up to grab his dick. The clown grunting as he nuzzled his face into Sid's shoulder, the skin salty with sweat as the older man’s teeth sunk into it. The clown’s teeth repeatedly ripping into the flesh of the younger man’s shoulder; blood staining his lips.

Heavy breaths as Shawn broke away from bloody bites, Shawn kissing at the marks that leaked crimson down the Dj’s freckled skin. Sid was whimpering, his dick twitching in Shawn’s gloved hand ready to burst if not for the fingers tight around the base. The Dj fruitlessly trying to rock his hips into the clown’s grip, little whispers of _‘Please, please, Shawn, p-please,’_ drooling from his lips. Shawn humming as he only continued to lick at the freckled skin, nipping at a small smiley face tattoo Sid had right at the top of his shoulder blade. His fingers still grazing over the skin of Sid’s throat; which was sure to be bruised in the morning. Shawn biting hard into the crux of the Dj’s neck, sucking at the skin as Sid made a strangled noise, even if the clown was not choking him at the moment. 

_“D-daddy...plleas-ssee-e…!”_ The Dj’s voice was raw, words breathy and _fucking_ desperate. Shawn's eyes dilated; a snarl deep in his throat. Sid could always get the clown to do nearly anything the young Dj wanted when he called him that, and Sid knew it. Though it didn’t hurt that Sid sounded like he was on the edge of dying as well, moaning as the texture of Shawn’s gloves was rough against his skin. Shawn making a split-second decision to give in to the Dj’s pleading, bucking his hips hard into the younger man. Sid choking, moans ripped out of him by Shawn’s hands and dick. 

The pace of Shawn’s thrusts not pausing as Sid's body trembled and spanned against him, the Dj’s hands managing to twist in the bedsheets with his leg muscles twitching as he tried to meet the clown’s bucking hips. The clown's heavy breathing tickled the back of Sid’s neck as he held the younger man close, grunting as he felt the Dj’s body all warm and pulsating around him. Gloved hand once again starting to contract around the Dj’s freckled neck, the younger man’s tongue sticking out of his mouth with more drool dribbling down his chin, not stopping the half-strangled moans and whimpers that gurgled from his suffocated windpipe. Shawn’s dick repeatedly buried itself in Sid as the knot of heat built in the clown’s gut, rumbling grunts from his chest as Sid’s body drove him ever closer to his own release. 

The clown thrusting into the Dj’s oxygen-deprived trembling body until his orgasm made his teeth sink deeper into the younger man’s skin and his hips stutter; the knot in his gut reaching its peak. His hand, which had been periodically letting Sid gasp in lungfuls of air; _because despite how annoying the younger man was sometimes, Shawn didn’t want to kill him at the moment_ , tightened hard enough to nearly crush the man’s windpipe. A high pitch sound of pain slipping from the Dj’s throat as Shawn grunted loudly; his cum spilling into the shaking tattooed body. Hips stuttered as the Dj’s body shook, a hiss spilling the younger man’s spit coated pink lips; grinding his hips down onto Shawn’s cock. 

The hand currently strangling the life out of Sid finally loosening and allowing the man to gasp air into his starved lungs, a mix of a hard cough and a moan ripping from his chest. Shawn now focused on Sid, he didn’t much care that his own orgasm had already past, only caring that he would get to see Sid fall apart in his fingers. The clown’s body pressed close to Sid while the younger man whined, his own orgasm held just out of reach. The clown voice reverberating in Sid’s ear,

_“Have you been a good boy, Sidney?”_

_“Ye s, y-ss ye-s ye-yes..please, da-ddy, I’ve be-en good, P-lease, I-i, wan_ **_-please_ ** _,”_ Sid words desperate, so quick to try and spill from his lips they became jumbled and incoherent. Shawn grunted, his whole fist wrapping around Sid’s overstimulated dick, daring to stroke it just the smallest bit; which made Sid whine loudly. More incoherent pleading gibberish bubbling from his chest while his thigh muscles twitched. A small smirk on the clown’s face as he slowly started to pump up and down on the flushed dick, every bit of friction made Sid whimper and try to buck his hips to get more, hopelessly trying to get enough stimulation to push himself over the edge. The painful twisting of a long-overdue orgasm in his belly making Sid thrash in Shawn’s arms. The clown purring in the Dj’s ear, 

_“Been so good haven’t you, Sidney. Holding on for so long,”_ Shawn’s breath brushed against the shell of Sid’s ear, a sharp shiver running down the Dj’s spine, _“Goodboy,”_ Sid made a sound reminiscent of a dying animal, rolling his head back against Shawn's shoulder. He was teetering right on the edge, already half falling off. 

_“_ **_Dadd-y,_ ** _pp-lea-seee, le-t me let m一”_ Sid voice devolving into a long moan. Shawn chuckling, his gloved fingers rubbing at the sensitive head of the leaking cock just to see Sid buck his hips and whimper. He knew the Dj was waiting for his approval, _he really was a good boy._ Shawn grinned; his hand increasing its efforts in making the younger man fall apart. 

“Go ahead Sidney, _come for me,”_ Sid made another desperate sound as Shawn’s hand tightened around his esophagus and started to choke the Dj, the clown other hand rough and wonderful on the Dj’s twitching flushed erection, _“You’ve earned it, my good little boy,”_ If not for the hand around his throat _,_ Sid would have practically screamed when all the pent up pleasure and heat in his body was allowed to let go. His eyes rolling into the back of his and his mouth open in a silent cry, gurgling out choked sounds, his body spasming and thrashing. Pearly semen splattering onto his sweaty belly; his head filled with a high-pitched note as his mind went blank, the lack of oxygen supplied to his brain only making the orgasm more intense. Collapsing against Shawn, his body going limp, the hand at his throat only squeezing one final time before letting go; Sid panting hard. Taking minutes for his breathing to settle down as the clown traced fingers over Sid’s collarbone. 

The Dj leaning forward off of the clown’s chest and falling face-first into the bed, curling his arms around a pillow, his cheek pressed to the cheap fabric. Sid mewled, Shawn’s dick having been pulled from his ass and letting a wave of ejaculant spill out onto the back of the Dj’s thighs, dripping down onto the bed. Shawn reached out his still gloved hands to massage the fat of Sid’s thighs and ass. The Dj eventually wriggled his hips and giggled, the clown rolling his eyes. _The little Devil was back._ Shawn slapped hard at an asscheek, his hand leaving a red mark; Sid gasping only for it to develop into another giggle. 

Shawn started to actually take off his clothing, stripping off his gloves, then his jacket, shirt, etc. etc. until he was left to crawl up by Sid; who had been watching him. Shawn kicking off his pants and boxers before Sid curled up to his chest. The younger man making a happy trilling sound in the back of his throat as he buried his face in right below Shawn’s chin, the mess on his stomach squelching as he pressed their bodies together; Shawn groaning. 

_“Bastard,”_ Sid only snuggling closer, and making mock kissy noises at Shawn,

_“Love you too,”_


End file.
